When It's All in Black and White
by LOLChanny819
Summary: Thirteen photos, lacking color, lacking reason, but always there. It's beautiful, you know. And they tell a story you'll never guess happened.


**Disclaimer: No siree bob, I don't own Sonny with a Chance. Or an old camera with cool black and white film, but I plan on getting one someday. How cool would that be?**

**Alright, y'all, I really feel the need to dedicate this to my good friend Kristy. LilRockerStar, you're amazing and sweet and nice and you always have my back. So this is for you. **

When It's All In Black And White

When you look back at it, their relationship was like a strip of film. So many memories compacted into something so small. They hadn't known each other for long, and now, searching the past, their presence in each other's lives had been nothing more than a mere passing. They were ghosts among each other's world, forever lingering, but nothing more than a wisp of imagination in their newfound sense of reality.

It was almost as if the last photograph in which they both existed together had been smudged, and you could see the beginning of something new. Someone's finger had imprinted on one of their lives, and it was going to impact the whole photo. It was going to make a difference.

Supposedly, their relationship had some sort of significance to it, but now, so far from that time in which they were able to stand each other, it seemed unlikely. The moments together were hard to remember, because they were sparse.

Somehow though, the faint trace of each other remained, forever resting in their hearts. They both harbored feelings no one wanted to admit to. The word denial had been a big part in the downfall of their story. What an anticlimactic story it had been.

The first few pictures are of joy, of strangers, of things unknown. But it was okay, because they were content to learn things slowly, taking their time. The two stars had always been cautious around each other, as if they together had become a ticking time bomb and one small movement could easily set off a chain reaction. In the end, it had been inevitable anyway.

The pictures next to the first ones were more precise, depicting the importance of their presence within each other's lives. One was of pain and sorrow, the other of happiness and strength. But it was these pictures that held the least meaning, that had become the most easily forgotten. To most, it was just the in between to what would later be known as a tragedy. These pictures were just the part of the filler in a great story.

The picture after that is the first scar. In fact, it had always been a little blurry, as if someone exposed it to the light. It is a picture of betrayal, and of loss. It was the beginning of the downfall. If you look closely, you can see that it was also the beginning of something more. It was the beginning of her defiance. She had promised never to fall again thanks to this picture, this memory that had burned its way into her life.

Of course, the picture right next to it would always be her favorite. It showed her revenge, and it showed the beginning of the goodbye it took him so long to say. He was more hurt than he had known he could be, and the look of surprise never ceased to amuse her. After all, this was after she had vowed to make him her personal puppet.

The photo after is his favorite, though he'd never admit to it. It showed them in the best stage, where they had made up. Yes, they would always be tainted, but the deeper meaning in it always made him smile. He'd be lying if he said he didn't remember this piece of the puzzle.

Of course, the one right after had been a negative, only showing a blank spot in their relationship. It was the time where he told her he loved her just to get through the night. She knew he didn't mean it, and he knew she was looking for someone else to kiss away her tears. It was the way they worked; like a terribly oiled machine, where the bomb was getting closer and closer to the end of it's already shortened fuse.

Somehow, this picture was blocked out because they didn't want to remember how fake they had been. He had almost killed himself during this time, and if you look closely, every photo after shows the small scar on his left wrist. She always pretended not to notice it.

In the next picture, a goodbye was in order. Not between the two of them, though you could see they both desperately wanted it to be. No, the shows had ended and they were breaking ties with everyone else. After all, both he and she had convinced themselves and each other that their relationship was all they needed. What a two-faced lie it had turned out to be.

Be patient, there are only two more photos before the finale. The one lined up next to our previous photo shows a man, half of our story, in fact, losing himself. He doesn't want to admit it, but he knows he's ready to leave her. Besides, another girl has promised to be there, and she makes him feel so good, so whole again. But he wills himself not to cheat, and the hope of a salvation with this other woman keeps him going. However, he's still ready to say goodbye.

Obviously, the next photo shows her drowning her sorrows in alcohol. It's been so long since she was ever truly happy, and she's ready to leave him. Somebody needs to give her a little push, and the alcohol seems to do just that. It whispers to her, and in her drunken sorrow, she listens. It's quite possibly the first thing she's heard in months. And she knows it's right.

Finally, this is the end. The last photo, with the smudge. For once, there are no fights. There's even a sense of hope, no matter how twistedly wrong it is. They're free, and they both can live out their lives now without the guilt of yesterday and the dread of tomorrow. They can live in the present, and it's wonderful.

They both manage to keep their dignity while respecting the other, their faces solemn but not really sad. This picture was never supposed to be taken, because it wasn't a particular moment they ever looked upon. If the other had never existed, then surely no goodbye ever took place. Or at least that's the story everybody else knows.

Thirteen photos, each in black and white, each with its own story, its own burden to bear. Together, they show the rise and downfall of two teens who began thinking they could withstand anything. You may be wondering who took these photos or why this story is even told. It isn't one of happiness and certainly it must not have a greater meaning. Pictures are pictures. But, you see, _a picture is worth a thousand words_.

Maybe that's why they never lasted. There was too much left unspoken, too much bitterness and resentment. There were too many tear sand not enough smiles left to share, no matter how much they wanted there to be. It was the end, though, so they tried not to dwell on that small tidbit.

Then again, there's something they never showed anyone. There's another set of pictures. And those are the real deal. The ones with the happy ending. It's just hidden beneath the floorboards, like all old pictures are. No one ever finds those. Because they don't _matter_. But they do, more than anyone besides the two will ever know.

The story isn't over. It's only just begun. It lies in strips of film, all painted in black and white. And if you look carefully and study the last picture, you'll see. The smudge was an accident. Behind it is the prologue to a new beginning, a new set of pictures. And maybe, just maybe, the protagonists win this one.

**Oh, gosh, suckish ending! I am SO sorry you had to read this! It just….ugh! But I'm posting it because it's late and sometimes things pour out when it's late that I never realized I had. Sooo…sorry. SMILES!**

**LOL**


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